


Lucky Starr and the Diamond Ocean

by Kahvi



Category: Lucky Starr - Isaac Asimov
Genre: M/M, Trans Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28130094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahvi/pseuds/Kahvi
Summary: On a station orbiting Uranus, an experimental craft is being constructed, capable of braving the harsh atmosphere and landing on the planet's surface. Lucky and Bigman are tasked with escorting the pilot there safely, unaware that what sounds like a simple and enjoyable mission soon will take a dark turn.
Relationships: John Bigman Jones/David "Lucky" Starr
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Lucky Starr and the Diamond Ocean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Roadsterguy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roadsterguy/gifts).



The little control room of  _ The Shooting Starr _ was bathed in shades of brilliant blue-green, the visiplate showing nothing but the bright disc of Uranus. They were so close, Bigman felt like he could reach out and touch its surface, trace his fingers along the methane atmosphere. Its rings were barely visible; shading from dark grey to bright gold, cutting the disc neatly in half. After three months cooped up in his and Lucky’s apartment on Earth, being out in space made Bigman feel like he could finally breathe again. He’d said as much, and Lucky had laughed and told him there was no air in space. Like Bigman didn’t know! It just… felt right. 

“Admiring the view?” Lucky had finished his calculations at the navicomp, and looked up, his dark brown eyes nearly a blackish purple in the Uranian glow. His face looked more lean and angular, and not just because of the light. Bigman felt a twinge of concern. The isolation hadn’t been good for Lucky either. 

“Sure is a sight. I can’t believe how close we are! And you say the station is even closer?”

“It has to be. They’re launching the craft from orbit.” Landing on Uranus! Just years ago, the very idea would have been unthinkable. And now Lucky and Bigman were escorting the supply ship carrying the pilot who would become the first man to set foot there. 

“Do you think we’ll get to see the landing?”

“Not unless we stay another six months. They’ll be running tests and getting the pilot adjusted to the real thing; he’s been training with simulators for as long as the project has been running.” 

“Aw, that’s a real shame. I wanted to see him take his first steps on the surface.” 

Lucky smiled, and immediately, Bigman knew he’d goofed. There was just something about that grin, the  _ look  _ in his eye. “He’d have to be swimming. Uranus doesn’t have a surface, as such, just a planet-wide water–ammonia ocean.”

“Ocean?” Bigman frowned. “Come on, Lucky; that makes no sense. Everyone knows Uranus is an ice giant.” He bristled a little. Maybe he hadn’t had a lot of schooling, but this was kids’ stuff. 

“It’s not ice in the conventional sense,” Lucky explained, turning his attention back to the instrument panel. “It’s a hot and dense fluid consisting of water, ammonia and other volatiles.”

Bigman didn’t know a lot about water, being a Martian, but that sure didn’t sound like ice to him. That was Lucky for you, though. If he said that’s what it was, then that was what it was. “So if there isn’t a surface, how is he going to land?”

“That’s the beauty of this new landing craft; not only is it strong enough to withstand the Uranian atmosphere, it can land on a liquid surface. If all goes well, they’re hoping to establish a floating base, but for now they’re just taking samples and collecting data.” 

“A floating base!” Bigman imagined it; a series of rafts with buildings on them, all connected, floating on the ocean of ice that wasn’t ice. “I’d sure like to see that.” 

“It’ll take a few years to get to that point,” Lucky smiled, indulgently, “but we can come back.” He shifted the visiplate to show the port-side view. “There’s the station, up ahead.”

Bigman squinted. It was just a tiny silver grey speck against the blue-green giant, but he could just about make it out. At current speed, they should be there in time for dinner. He was looking forward to eating something other than yeast, tasty though the onboard rations could be. “Say, Lucky, do you know who the pilot is?” 

“No clue. It’s all been kept very quiet.” He seemed to frown a little. It was always hard to tell. Lucky wasn’t the kind of guy to let emotions show on his face, or anywhere else on his body, for that matter. 

“Even from you?” 

“I suppose they would have told me if I’d asked, but I figured the less I knew, the better. You know how top secret the Uranus Project is.”

Bigman nodded. If the Sirians got word that Earth had the technology to build a base on Uranus, they’d want to get their hands on it. There was no way they would dare set up a colony on the planet themselves, not after what Lucky did on Saturn, but there were plenty of other planets with a hot, liquid surface and rough atmosphere. Besides, Bigman wouldn’t put it past the Sirians to try to sabotage Earth’s expansion efforts just because they could. No wonder Lucky didn’t want too many people to know who the pilot was. “I suppose that’s why he’s travelling here on a scheduled supply ship.”

“And why we’re looking after him.”

Bigman settled back in his chair. There was a lot more to this mission than a simple escorting job. The future of Earth’s colonies lay in the balance!

* * *

Up close, the station seemed a lot smaller than Bigman had imagined it. Maybe it was the fact that Uranus was out there making everything other than it look tiny, or maybe the scope of the project and the excitement of history in the making had prepared him for something grander; either way, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed as they carefully connected to one of the two docking bays. Two! Even the smallest Martian maintenance station had at least three or four. Then again, maybe they didn’t want a lot of ships docking here. Bigman kept his thoughts to himself, following Lucky into a rather plain-looking lobby after they’d cleared the airlock. 

“We’ll need to report straight to the medical bay. Professor Williams, the chief scientist, will meet with us later.” 

The medical bay! Bigman tried to hide his disappointment as they followed the lighted signs to a set of large doors with an indicator lamp above it. Currently, the light was set to red. Bigman crossed his arms and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He didn’t much like waiting, and he was sick to death of being prodded by Doctors. “Geez Lucky, why do we have to get another physical? We both got vaccinated before we left Earth, there’s no chance we’re infected!” 

But Lucky shook his head. “We can’t be too careful. The virus isn’t under control yet, there are still people back on Earth who aren’t vaccinated.”

“But  _ we  _ are!” 

“No vaccine is perfect. We could be infected with a mutated strain, in which case we’d need to be bio-matched again.” 

Bigman looked up at the red light, forlornly. Lucky was right, of course. “I can’t imagine what it was like back when they had to wait as long as a year to get a vaccine for a new virus.”

“A year? Try half a dozen years or more! It was only when simulations got advanced enough to speed up field testing, and bio-matching to each individual became possible that we were able to work as fast as we do today.” 

Bigman gasped. “You mean they’d be in quarantine for  _ years _ ?”

“Not strict quarantine, but they had to maintain social distancing, restrict movement, avoid travel, wear protective gear, that sort of thing. Sometimes it would move faster than that, if they were already working on a vaccine when the pandemic hit, but it was nothing like today.” 

“Sands of Mars,” Bigman muttered, taking it all in. And here he’d thought a few measly months had been hard to get through! 

The light turned green, and Lucky gestured for Bigman to go in. “Go on. I can tell you’re about to explode if you have to wait one more second.” 

“Thanks, Lucky. Here’s hoping I don’t have to be stuck here for a week while they match me again.” Gratefully, Bigman hurried inside. 

  
  


* * *

Bigman blinked as the doctor rose to greet him. Of all the things he had expected to see, a  _ woman  _ was not one of them. She was slim, but athletic, with dark brown hair greying at the temples, and tied back securely in a simple knot. Bigman barely managed to splutter out his name and ID, which she dutifully entered into the station’s systems. 

“You’re fresh from Earth, right?” 

“That’s right, uh, ma’am.” How did you address a female Doctor? “But we’ve been vaccinated, me and Lucky both.” 

“Doctor Bryson will do.” She smiled, and she didn’t look as annoyed as Bigman got when someone called him by the wrong name. Speaking of which:

“You can call me Bigman.”

“All right, if you prefer. I assumed you’d been vaccinated and recently tested; I wouldn’t expect a Council of Science representative to risk bringing contagion to an important research facility. Still, we have to follow protocol.” She finished tapping at her keyboard, and looked up at him. “This won’t take a moment.” 

Having gone through this more times than he’d care to remember, Bigman put his hand down on the table, palm up. Doctor Bryson pressed the diagno-stick to the tip of his middle finger, painlessly drawing a drop of blood, which was instantly sucked up into the device. After a few seconds, a tone sounded, and a light showed on the smooth surface. 

“Looks like you’re still in the green!” 

Bigman let out a deep breath. “Thanks, doc. I’m glad I don’t have to be cooped up on this station for a week!” Realizing what he’d said, he hurried to add, “not that it’s not great to be here. I can’t imagine anyone could get tired of that view!” 

“It’s spectacular, isn’t it?” Doctor Bryson put the diagno-stick away, her face softening. “I always dreamed of going into space, ever since I was a little girl. It’s not easy for us women; I knew I had to be the absolute best in my field to even stand a chance of getting to work out here. So I set out to be. Took me twenty years of hard work, but I got there in the end. This is my second posting,” she said, proudly. 

“You could have volunteered for marriage.” 

She snorted. “Please. The admissions criteria are as strict as they are for workers, except they’re also measuring and assessing your body. And you’re committing to a life of child care and domestic drudgery. No thanks.”

Bigman nodded, slowly. He’d never really thought about it that way before. “I suppose there aren’t a lot of jobs for women off Earth.”

“By design. They tell us it’s population control, as though we don’t have means to prevent that. It’s like they think the first thing on a woman’s mind once she gets off-planet is to get pregnant. Anyway,” she sighed, “that’s why I got into medicine. I looked up the statistics, and for whatever reason, they hire more women from the medical profession than from any other field. I read some articles theorizing that women had a better bedside manner, but honestly, I think men just like having someone maternal taking care of their aches and pains.” 

“Well, you took very good care of me!” Bigman rose, eager to get out of there. “Thanks again, doc.”

“My pleasure. Oh, by the way, I’ll be downloading your medical records from the central database.” 

Bigman froze. “Why? What do you need them for?”

“Just on the off chance there’s an outbreak, and we need to confirm the virus type for which you were vaccinated. If that happens, or if you suffer any illness or injury, we’ll need to consult your medical history.” 

“What sort of illness or injury would I get in two days here?” 

“It’s protocol,” Doctor Bryson said. Her voice carried the authority of someone who had fought their way up the ranks, and was not used to getting no for an answer. Between that, and remembering what Lucky had said, Bigman shrugged. 

“All right, if you think you’ll need it. But you won’t.” 

“I’m sure we won’t. Would you send in Councilman Starr?” 

* * *

Waiting for Lucky to get done in there was even more frustrating than waiting his own turn. At least then, he’d had company. Bigman paced back and forth in front of the door, wishing there was a viewscreen within range. He couldn’t wait to see the view from inside the station, and the waiting room was worse than boring. The station was so new it didn’t even have rust spots or worn rivets to break up the monotony of grey metal. His thoughts were interrupted when the doors opened, and Lucky strode out. “That was fast! What; she took one look at you and realized there was nothing she could do?” 

Lucky swatted the back of his head, and grinned. “I’m fit as a fiddle. Come on, let’s go see if we can find you a shower before you stink up the place.” 

Bigman lit up. “A shower! You think they have one they’d let us use?” 

“Let’s not have that be the first question we ask them.” There was a security door separating the waiting room and medical bay from the rest of the station. Lucky walked towards it, and it quickly scanned him, reading his bio-signature, and opened up. He and Bigman stepped through into a long corridor. 

A tall, thin man with short-cropped silvery hair strode towards them, his hand outstretched. Lucky grasped it. 

“Gentlemen, welcome to The Globe.” he said, extending his hand to Bigman. He had a strong, firm grip. Bigman was impressed; not bad for a guy his age. He looked to be in his late nineties, just a few years short of retirement. “I am Harcourt Williams, Chief Scientist in charge of the Uranus project.”

“Good to meet you, professor Williams. I’m David Starr, and this is my associate, John Jones.” 

“Call me Bigman,” Bigman said, hurriedly. He didn’t much like his first name, for a good many reasons. 

“And I hear people call  _ you  _ Lucky,” professor Williams smiled. “I hope that bodes well for our test today.”

“I hope so too, professor. Has the pilot arrived?” Just as Lucky said it, the professor’s entire face changed, going from pleasant and genial to closed-off and hard, his dark skin paling. 

“Yes,” He struggled to smile. “Cleared medical just before you did.”

“Glad to hear it.” Lucky seemed taken aback; he must have noticed the sudden change, too. “We’d love to meet him, later.”

The professor smiled, thinly. “I’m sure that can be arranged.” He relaxed a little again, not looking quite so much like he’d eaten an entire lemon. “Meanwhile, let me get you settled. I assume you won’t be staying overnight, but you’re welcome to make use of our facilities. And I hope you’ll be joining us for dinner?”

“We’d like that very much, if it’s not an inconvenience.” 

“Not at all. I’ll show you to one of our spare quarters.” He held out an arm, and Lucky and Bigman followed him down the corridor. 

“You said something about The Globe - is that what you call the station?” Bigman had been thinking the same thing. He was glad Lucky had asked. 

“The official designation is U-B2, but that’s what we call it around here, yes.”

Lucky grinned. “It’s clever. I like it.”

“Clever how?” It made little sense to Bigman; it didn’t even look like a globe. 

Lucky turned to him, his smile now that ever-patient one he used when explaining something that was obvious to him, but never to Bigman. “A lot of the Uranian moons are named after Shakespeare characters.”

“Sure, everyone knows that. What of it?”

“The Globe was Shakespeare’s theater in London. I suppose it must look a bit like the moons are putting on a performance for you, when you look out through the station viewscreens.” 

“That’s exactly it,” professor Williams said, walking a little faster, as though Lucky’s appreciation had given him a boost of energy. “It’s like having twenty seven actors performing a cosmic ballet in a private performance. We have an observation dome in the break room, and viewscreens just about anywhere we can fit them. It’s quite a sight, and good for morale.”

They had stopped in front of a barely visible door, which opened at the touch of professor Williams’s palm. “I will temporarily code the lock to you, if either of you would like to freshen up.”

“I sure would,” Bigman exclaimed, already thinking about the luxurious showers, by Mars standards, usually found on stations. Most stations created their own water supply, and had fewer people than a planet-based colony. They could afford to be fairly generous with it. 

“Thank you,” Lucky said, “we’ll have time for that before the test. But first I’d like to meet the project crew, and the pilot.”

The professor’s face fell again. “As you wish. They’re in the engineering lab, it’s just down this way.” He indicated another corridor veering off to the left. Lucky thanked him, Bigman nodded, and they were on their way. 

“What do you suppose that was about,” Bigman whispered, the moment they were far enough away from the professor for him not to hear.

“I don’t know why, Bigman,” Lucky said, his jaw set, “but I don’t think the professor likes his new pilot much.” 

* * *

The corridor opened up into a large room filled with tables, computer banks and equipment, but the only thing Bigman could keep his eyes on was the wall of viewscreens; a tall, broad, blue-green expanse. A few dark objects were visible here and there; moons, presumably, but there was no deep-black background of space, no far-away stars. Just that endless teal glow. 

“Sands of Mars,” Bigman muttered. Lucky had to nudge him with his elbow when the scientist Bigman hadn’t even noticed approached them. 

“You must be Lucky Starr!” The man smiled brightly, shaking Lucky’s hand. He was a younger fellow, tanned and green-eyed, his softly curled black hair giving him a pleasantly approachable look. “I’m sorry, was that too much? We’ve barely even met. I’m Langdon Ferris, assistant to professor Williams. Huge fan.” 

“You don’t say,” Bigman groused, glaring up at him. 

“And you must be Bigman.” Ferris smiled, reaching out his hand again. Hesitating slightly, Bigman took it. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too.” Well, just how was he supposed to take that? Bigman merely nodded, letting Ferris go on. 

“We’re all excited to see you - everyone on staff, which is to say the four of us, we’re a bit of a skeleton crew at the moment.”

“We’re happy to be here,” Lucky finally managed to say. “We were told to go to the engineering lab to meet the new pilot. I suppose this is it?”

“Absolutely. All the labs are along the outer wall of this section of the station, it makes the viewports feel just a little bit more like windows, if you know what I mean? Through that door is the astrophysics lab, and beyond that we have set-up for biology and geology, and a couple more that can be converted to whatever we need.”

Lucky raised his eyebrows. “You’re expecting to become quite a research hub, then?”

“In time, yes. But it’s more that we have no idea what we might find down there; what we need to prioritize. The station was designed to be easily adaptable to meet any needs we might end up having. Right now though, it’s just us astrophysicists, and a couple of engineers.”

“Speaking of which…” Lucky looked around. Other than the three of them, the room was empty. 

“Oh, they’re both in the launch-bay with the pilot. Let me take you over and introduce you.” He started walking quickly towards a huge pair of doors. 

Bigman glanced at Lucky as they followed, wondering if he was feeling the same thrill, the anticipation of history in the making? Or maybe this was all just business as usual, to Lucky? After all, he’d made quite a bit of history himself. You might get used to it, after a while. But Lucky’s face was just as pleasantly neutral as ever; that half-smile you never quite knew what to do with, his eyes keen and attentive. 

The doors opened as they got closer, Ferris waiting for them to catch up. Inside was what looked like something between a repair shop and a garage, with a sleek, metallic object right in the middle. The lander! Bigman craned his neck, trying to get a good look at it between the people who were standing all around it; a tall, pale man with dark, slicked-back hair and a neatly trimmed beard, a stocky man with light skin, sandy-blond hair and a ruddy complexion, and a shorter, dark-skinned man with brown, tightly curled hair, with his back to them. Bigman wondered which one was the pilot. Probably not the tall man; if that truly was the craft right there, he would barely fit into it. 

Just as they entered, the shorter man turned towards them. “And here we have my escorts from the Council of Science! So glad to finally meet you. I’m Emily Jørgensen,” she beamed.

* * *

“Lucky,” Bigman hissed, taking a step back. Another woman! He looked at Emily Jørgensen’s outstretched hand in panic. Thankfully, Lucky stepped in to take it, like nothing at all out of the ordinary was going on. 

“Ms Jørgensen,” Lucky said, with a little bow. “I see the first man on Uranus isn’t going to be a man at all.”

She laughed. Her voice was so different; so light. Bigman didn’t know what to do with himself. “I don’t wonder you’re surprised; I believe I’m the first female pilot to ever work this far out in the frontier.”

Bigman hadn’t even known there  _ were  _ any female pilots. Perhaps on Earth, where there were so many women, but out here? Like the doctor had said, any woman going to the colonies had to either apply to one of the matchmaking programs, and agree to become a wife and homemaker for men who had been granted a family license, and they didn’t take just anyone - or they had to prove that their expertise was absolutely needed off-Earth, in which case they were sterilized. Population control was serious business. “Pleased to meet you,” he mumbled, managing to look up. She had quite extraordinary eyes, more green than brown, and very dark, long lashes. 

“Pleased to meet you, too. Bigman, isn’t it? And you’re Lucky Starr, of course.”

“At your service, Ms Jørgensen. Or is there something else I should call you?”

“You mean, do I have a Science Corps rank? No, I’m a civilian who just happens to be very good at what I do. The Council recruited me for this project when I was working at the Lunar center for experimental spacecraft. Three years later,” she spread her arms, “here I am!” 

“We’re damn lucky to have her,” the stocky blond said. “I’m Rafe Jameson, chief engineer.” 

“And I am Luc Adernan, chief engineer,” the tall man added, quickly. The two men glared at one another. 

“These,” Ferris stepped between them, smiling a little too broadly, “are our two engineering experts. Jameson joins us from the Council of Science corps of engineers, where he specialized in maintenance and hull construction.”

Adernan pursed his lips. “And, apparently, security detail.”

“Mr. Adernan,” Ferris hurried on, “is a vital contributor to the project, as he brings us the valuable knowledge of Sirian shipbuilding technology.” 

Sirius! Bigman tried not to gasp. He should have seen it. Adernan was a picture perfect Sirian, if a little thinner and paler than the norm. 

“And what he’s trying to imply,” Jameson waved a finger, “is that I’ve been asked to keep an eye on him, which is absolutely not true. I’m here to represent the interests of Earth, and make sure your Sirian tech is not-”

“In other words, to keep an eye on me.”

“Gentlemen,” Ferris said, a little too loudly. “You’re not giving Ms. Jørgensen the best first impression. I can assure you, it’s not always like this.” 

No, Bigman thought, they’re probably on good behavior with guests around. 

“Oh, I don’t spook that easily.” Jørgensen turned her back on the still fuming men, and smiled at Ferris. “Perhaps you could show me the rest of the facility? I should probably report to professor Williams when I’ve seen the sights.”

“Of course!” Ferris looked relieved to get an excuse to leave. “Councilman Starr, would you like to join us?”

“We should get settled and make ourselves presentable, but thank you.”

“Right away?” Bigman protested. “Can’t we stay and get a closer look at the lander?”

“There will be plenty of time for that during the test run. Ms Jørgensen, we look forward to seeing you in action later!” 

“I hope I’ll live up to your expectations. Until then, Councilman.” 

  
  


* * *

Considering the rest of the station, their assigned quarters were surprisingly spacious and comfortable, including a large bathroom and a viewport taking up most of one wall. Bigman sat and watched the moons dance slowly across the massive blue-green background, slowly taking off his boots. He’d worn his best ones today; light blue with orange swirls. Like most Martian farmboys, he took greater pride in his boots than any other part of his appearance. The pseudo-leather didn’t need much looking after, but it shone better when you buffed it with a microfibre cloth. Bigman hadn’t brought one for such a short stay, but he looked them over carefully even so, just in case there was any dirt or scratches. 

He could hear the shower running, and closed his eyes. All that water! Such a luxury. Lucky was in there now… and that’s where Bigman forced his imagination to grind to a screeching halt. There was nothing wrong with men finding comfort in other men, and certainly Bigman had seen his share of that on the farms, where you rarely had room enough to put fewer than two men in a bed. But Lucky wasn’t like that! And even if he had been, there were things about Bigman he didn’t want Lucky to know, not even if it meant they could be together… that way. It wasn’t worth the humiliation. No, don’t think about that; think about all that water, nice and warm, and proper soap, and good towels…

The sound of running water stopped, and Bigman hurried with the rest of his clothes. After the shower came dinner, and he was more than ready for that. Just as he was pulling his shirt over his head, Lucky came out of the shower, fully dressed. He was nice like that, never gave off the wrong impression, was always prim and proper. “Well, Bigman; it’s all yours! I’ll bet you-”

There was a knock at the door. Bigman hurriedly pulled his shirt back on, while Lucky walked over to the intercom. “Who is it?” 

“It’s professor Williams. There’s been an emergency.”

Lucky glanced over at Bigman. “What sort of emergency?”

“The pilot - Jørgensen. He- she’s taken ill.” 

“You’d better come in.” Lucky palmed the door open. 

Professor Williams stumbled in, looking distraught. “Thank you. I apologize for intruding like this-” he looked at Bigman, who was just in his socks and undershirt, lingering a little too long. Yeah, all right, Bigman grumbled to himself, you keep your dirty thoughts to yourself. Nothing to see here. Much that Bigman wished it were otherwise. 

“Not at all. You said your pilot is ill?”

“Yes. There’s more to it than that - it came over her quite suddenly. She had come to my office to discuss today’s test, and look over some paperwork.”

“And her physical exam didn’t show anything wrong?” Lucky stroked his chin. 

“Not from what Doctor Bryson tells me. She even said she downloaded Jørgensen’s medical history just before her visit, so she could be prepared for anything. And there was nothing.”

Bigman struggled back into his boots. “Does she get space sick, maybe?”

“Bigman,” Lucky shook his head at him, “she’s a professional pilot.”

“Yeah,” Bigman admitted, “you’re right. That wouldn’t make much sense.” 

“You see my concern.” Professor Williams wiped his brow. Bigman noticed he was sweating; he must have run here all the way from - where? “I don’t like to sound paranoid, but either she’s an asymptomatic virus carrier-”

Bigman jumped to his feet. “The T20 virus! Here! But that’s impossible, she would have been vaccinated!” 

“Maybe something went wrong with her bio-profiling,” Lucky had crossed his arms behind his back, and his brow was furrowed; the way he always looked when he was giving a matter his full attention. “Or maybe she was infected by a mutated strain. Either way, we can’t be too careful - she needs to be quarantined.” 

Professor Willams raised his hand. “Yes, yes; you’re right, of course, but that’s not the only thing that’s concerning me.”

“What, then?” 

“If she doesn’t have T20, and she fell ill all of a sudden with no prior indication of illness, then it’s just possible… that she was poisoned.”

  
  


* * *

“You think the Sirians might have done it?” Bigman asked, as they hurried down the corridor to Jørgensen’s quarters. “They do have a Sirian on staff, defector or not, I don’t trust the guy.”

“We have no proof she’s been poisoned yet,” Lucky replied, calm as ever. Professor Williams was ahead of them, hurrying to unlock her quarters with his own palm. “You have an override,” Lucky mused, taking up position behind him.

“Yes. My palm print opens any door on this station. In case of emergency.” 

Lucky just nodded. The door slid open, and a room at least the size of the one assigned to Lucky and Bigman showed through. “She’s on the bed,” professor Williams cried, rushing inside, the rest of them following right behind him. 

He was right; Jørgensen lay flat on the bed, her arms and legs splayed out, her eyes wide and staring. Whatever was wrong with her, she sure wasn’t taking a nap. 

“No pulse,” Lucky muttered, letting go of her wrist. “Bigman, go get Doctor Bryson. I think she’s dead.” 

  
  


* * *

“I just don’t understand it.” Doctor Bryson still held her instrument bag, hugging it against her chest. “She was fine when she came to see me.”

They were standing outside Jørgensen’s quarters, while Williams reprogrammed the door to quarantine mode. No one would be allowed to enter or leave except by his command, and all attempts at access would be carefully monitored. Lucky had demanded they all spread out with a safe one-meter distance, just in case this was the result of a particularly aggressive infection. Now, he turned to the doctor. “And she tested negative for all known types of T20?”

Doctor Bryson squeezed her bag closer. “Yes, I don’t understand this at all.”

“Nothing in her medical history?”

“Nothing that would indicate anything like this, no.”

“And she’d been vaccinated?” 

“Yes, but…” She frowned.

“But what?” Lucky’s voice sharpened. 

“It’s just, she was vaccinated at her training facility. I didn’t think much of it; all the paperwork was in order. But I did notice that the log entry was from an autodoc, not a human Doctor. That’s not uncommon in some places, while they wait for a proper medical center to be built. But…”

“They can be unreliable,” Lucky finished her sentence, his jaw set. 

“So what,” Bigman asked, “she wasn’t vaccinated?”

“Autodoc vaccine profiling isn’t perfect. She would have been vaccinated, all right, but it might not be as efficient against all strains.” He turned to Doctor Bryson. “Why didn’t you test her?” 

“I did! But only with the diagno-stick. That’s standard procedure, when someone’s been vaccinated. But when it’s not done properly…” She shook her head. “You need a more thorough test.”

“This is a disaster,” professor Williams walked towards them, and Lucky stopped him with a gesture when he got too close. “Not only have we lost our pilot, the whole station is going to have to go into lockdown for a week while we profile a new vaccine for everyone! The project will be delayed by weeks, if not months!” 

“We don’t know yet if she’s infected,” Lucky told him, gesturing to Doctor Bryson. “The doctor will have to determine that, first.”

“Yes, I took some samples; this is too advanced for the diagno-stick. It will take a few hours.”

“All right. Until then, we are going to have to initiate lockdown.”

“What!” Professor Williams grew pale. “Even before we know?”

“If we don’t, you risk every member of your crew contracting a particularly aggressive version of T20. How long do you think  _ that  _ will delay your project?” 

Professor Williams slinked back, looking defeated. Bigman couldn’t help but commiserate. Another lockdown! He couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less. Still, science was science. He turned to Lucky, hoping for some reassurance, but he was deep in conversation with the professor, presumably about which procedures to initiate. All this, Bigman grumbled to himself, and he hadn’t even gotten to take that shower yet. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


“The results are back.” 

They were back in their room, where they presumably would have to stay now for the foreseeable future. There were other rooms, but none with two beds, and Bigman, to his shame, hadn’t wanted to speak up about it. What sort of a man took advantage of an emergency to get cozy with a guy who wasn’t interested? Not that it would matter, Lucky would probably offer to sleep in the chair or something. “Oh yeah,” he told Lucky, without much enthusiasm. “What do they say?”

“It’s interesting. Very interesting, actually.” Lucky sat down by the little desk in the corner, with a built-in computer. 

“Well? Does she have T20 or not?”

“She has T20,” Lucky said, and Bigman’s heart sank. It had been a long shot, but still, he’d held out hope that it had just been some freak reaction to her afternoon coffee or something. “But here’s the kicker: She has a known variant. It’s rare, and very aggressive. It causes death in people with Jørgensen’s genetic background.”

“Great space!” Bigman jumped out of his chair. “Lucky, you touched her! The doc touched her!”

“Relax, Bigman.” Lucky raised his hand. “For people with a different genetic background, it’s no more lethal than any other strain of T20. The problem is, no one on the station except you and me are vaccinated for this particular strain. Doctor Bryson is going to start production based on the crew profiles she already has, but it’s going to take at least a week.”

Bigman brightened. “So you and I are okay? We can leave?”

“We’re okay, but we can’t leave. In theory, we could decontaminate in the airlock and not risk bringing any contagion off the station, but there’s something very suspicious about this death. The Council will want us to investigate.”

“What do you mean, suspicious; she died of the virus, didn’t she?”

“Yes, but the direct cause of death was asphyxiation. T20 causes your airways to swell up, and hers were swollen, all right, but did you notice anything odd about the room when you came in?” 

“Other than the dead body,” Bigman made a face, “no!” 

“The oxygen levels were abnormally low. I checked the maintenance logs, and the air supply to Jørgensen’s quarters had been turned off for half an hour. Not enough to kill a healthy person, but with the added strain from T20…”

“You mean, someone could have turned off the air flow deliberately?”

“In theory, anyone could have. Professor Williams has access to all the station’s systems, Adernan and Jameson are engineers, and even Ferris or Doctor Bryson could have gotten access with a little planning. It could well be an accident, but we can’t take that chance.”

They’d want Lucky to investigate, certainly. And while they were here, they’d have to follow lockdown procedures. For seven lousy days. Bigman rolled his eyes and flopped back in his chair, making Lucky laugh. 

“Come on; what’s seven more days? I thought Maritans were made of stronger stuff than that!” 

“We are; it’s seven days cooped up with a cobber like you I’m dreading.” Bigman grinned, and threw a pillow at Lucky. Lucky threw it back, hard enough to nearly knock Bigman out of his chair, and for a moment, he didn’t mind the lockdown all that much. Just for a moment. 

* * *

“This is serious, Lucky.” The face on their desk computer screen belonged to Hector Conway, Chief Councilman of the Council of Science, and it looked particularly grim. “It will take us months to train another pilot, not to mention what this means about a potential breach of security. If the Sirians are behind this, it means they’ve managed to infiltrate a top secret facility.”

“Yeah, well there’s a Sirian here right out in the open,” Bigman shouted from the other end of the room. Lucky shushed him.

“We’re aware of Luc Adernan’s involvement in the project. Rest assured that he’s been thoroughly vetted.”

Bigman glared. He didn’t trust Sirians as a rule, and you only had to look at this guy to see he was up to no good. But he crossed his arms and said nothing; he could talk to Lucky about it later. 

“Adernan has been a major asset. We don’t like to admit it, but we would have been unable to produce the materials for the landing craft’s hull without his input. Siran tech is clearly years, if not decades ahead of ours when it comes to shipbuilding. If they realize they’ve got the means to produce a craft like this, or get their hands on our blueprints...” He shook his head. 

“What about the rest of the crew?” Lucky picked up a pad, ready to take notes. 

“They were all hand-picked and thoroughly psych-profiled. Professor Williams is a close, personal friend of Councilman Harrison, and has been working for the Council for forty years. Ferris has been his assistant for the last five, and is considered a rising star in the astrophysics community. We were expecting him to apply for Council membership in a year or two.”

“And Doctor Bryson?” 

“A bit of an… unconventional choice, I’ll admit, but her record is outstanding. She’s received more commendations than any other medical professional in the field of frontier medicine. And her recommendations are glowing, which, given the circumstances,” he coughed, “is quite remarkable.” 

Lucky nodded. “That leaves Jameson, the engineer.” 

“He’s a bit of a hothead, but he’s the absolute best in his field. He was the youngest man ever admitted to the Lunar Engineering Academy, and he graduated with honors just two years later. The only reason he’s not world famous is his lack of personal skills, but quite frankly, we couldn’t afford not to use him.” 

Lucky paused in his writing. “He likes to pick fights?”

“Not so much; he thinks everyone else is out to pick a fight with him. He’s got a bit of an ego, too. He’s really only there to supervise, and he clearly resents Adernan being the lead designer. Quite honestly, we were hoping that would work to our advantage; Jameson is keeping a much closer eye on Adernan than any assigned security officer would.” 

“You think the Sirians could have found a way to get to him?” 

“It’s unlikely, but frankly, the chance of them getting to anyone in the crew is utterly unthinkable.” 

Lucky didn’t say anything, but Bigman bet he knew what was on his mind; there was no such thing as unthinkable. Not when it came to the Sirians. “I’ll have to speak with all of them. They’re initiating quarantine measures, but Bigman and I should be safe from this particular strain. When everything is up and running, we’ll do the rounds.” 

“Be careful.” Conway genuinely did look concerned. “If Jørgensen’s death wasn’t an accident, you’ve got a killer on the loose.”

Lucky smiled, grimly. “Don’t worry, uncle Hector, we’ll take every precaution.”

Which was all well and good, Bigman thought, but how could you take precautions against being murdered? 

  
  


* * *

Walking through the station shouldn’t feel any different to Bigman now than before, and yet it left him oddly anxious. According to quarantine procedures, every crew member was now confined to their quarters, with the exception of Doctor Bryson, who was confined to the medical bay, which had a small sleeping area attached, and it was almost like the sense of isolation had stained the air. Lucky didn’t seem any different than usual, his see-through mask making his face seem even more stoic, walking so quickly that Bigman almost had to run to keep up. 

“Hey, what’s the hurry? It’s not like anyone can go anywhere.”

“The murderer might.”

“And risk infection? He may be a murderer, but he can still get sick.”

“Whoever did this wouldn’t let a risk of infection stop him. Remember that we’re likely dealing with a Sirian secret agent, which is now at risk of exposure. He’d do anything to get out of this sticky situation.”

Bigman looked down at his boots. He’d only brought one pair with him, and it felt awkward wearing the same colors for so long. “Yeah, you’re right.” Still, at the back of Bigman’s mind, something didn’t quite add up. He pondered all the way to the engineer’s quarters, but still had no coherent thoughts about it when Lucky pressed the buzzer for Jameson’s door. 

“Now, remember, don’t go any further into the room than about one meter. And-”

Bigman rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah; and move if the other guy moves, and don’t take off my mask, and don’t shake hands with him or kiss him on the lips, either.” 

Lucky frowned, and seemed about to say something, but the door opened, showing Jameson backing quickly away. Once he’d gotten to the other side of the room, he waved a hand, yelling “come on in; let’s get this over with.” 

“Thank you.” Lucky stepped inside, and Bigman hurried after. This was the third set of crew quarters Bigman had seen on the station, and it looked exactly like the other two. There was a bed, a desk with a computer, a chair and a small table, and a viewport. The latter was either shut off, or set to a neutral black, making the room seem darker and a little stuffy. “We won’t take up much of your time.”

Jameson laughed. “Time is all I’ve got, now. Even if I wasn’t stuck in here, the project is on hiatus. Years of work, of planning and perfecting the design, and it all ends up like this.”

“You’ve got a lot to lose by Jørgensen being killed, then?” 

“I do and I don’t. Did you know I was the youngest man ever to be admitted to the Lunar Engineering Academy?”

“I’ve heard something to that effect.” 

“I’ve been doing nothing but designing ships my whole life. I’m the best Earth has to offer, and what have they got me doing? Playing nanny to some Sirian upstart. All I do is check his work and assist with the construction. It’s like I’m nothing but a glorified janitor!” 

Lucky glanced at Bigman. “I get the sense you two don’t get along all that well.”

“And that’s supposed to be my fault, is it?” Jameson clenched his fists. 

“I didn’t say that.” Lucky took a step back. 

“Yeah, well, you might as well have. Everyone is always after me to make nice with the Sirian. Like, what am I; a diplomat? It’s not like me getting in his face is going to cause an intergalactic incident. If he wants to play nice, he’ll have to start listening to my warnings.” 

“Your warnings?”

“Yeah! I keep telling him the lander is running too hot. It may survive the trip through the upper atmosphere, sure, but it’s got a lot of gadgets and circuitry outside on the hull. Like the override antenna, for example. Now, if that thing breaks, the station has no way to take control of the craft’s engines in case of malfunction. It’s madness to risk something like that getting compromised!” 

“And Adernan refused to listen?”

“That’s right!” Jameson snorted. “He thinks he’s some sort of god of engineering, just because he’s got some tricks up his sleeve that Earth happens to need. But there’s nothing I can do. I just have to nod and listen and implement whatever he tells me to. And I’m supposed to be the chief engineer!” 

“Adernan seems to be under the impression that he’s the chief engineer.” 

“Well, he’s plain wrong about that. I was hired to be the chief engineer, and that’s my job title. If he doesn’t like it, he can stick it.”

“So,” Bigman said, keeping a careful eye on Jameson’s expression, “if today’s test had gone off without a hitch, that would actually prove you wrong, wouldn’t it? If Adernan’s designs worked, and Jørgensen were able to pilot the craft without any problems?”

“Just what are you implying?” Jameson got up from his chair. He wasn’t that much taller than Bigman, and Bigman had decked men twice his size. Bigman didn’t move a micrometer. 

“We’re not implying anything,” Lucky said, the stress in his voice a signal for Bigman to drop it. “My associate is just saying-”

“I’m just saying that you don’t seem to be too cut up about the death of your pilot.”

Jameson glared at him. “Are you stupid or something? Yeah, I don’t like working with Adernan, and I think the lander has some serious design flaws, but a dead pilot just means the project will be on hiatus for weeks, maybe months. I would have loved to see a test run! That would prove once and for all what a fraud that Sirian is.”

Bigman narrowed his eyes and said nothing. Beside him, Lucky cleared his throat. 

“Where were you this afternoon, after we met in the engineering bay?”

“In the engineering bay,” Jameson groused. 

“All the time? Was someone with you?”

“Adernan was there, and no, not all the time. I showed Jørgensen around the station.”

“ _ You _ showed her around?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?” Jameson shifted, sitting back down. 

“Nothing. It’s just that Ferris said he’d take her on a tour. But you ended up doing it instead?”

Jameson sighed. “Ferris is a sleaze-ball. He was all over Jørgensen, like he’d never seen a woman before. I could tell she was getting uncomfortable when they were about to leave, so I offered to do it instead. She said yes, immediately.” 

“That was nice of you.” Lucky’s expression did not change, but Bigman could tell the corner of his mouth wanted to twitch. 

“Hey, it wasn’t like that! I wanted to get a break from Adernan, anyhow. I even took her up to professor Williams when we were done - he probably saw me as she went in.”

That was mighty convenient, Bigman thought. As though he’d made sure someone would be there to collaborate his story… 

“Thank you,” Lucky flashed Jameson a friendly smile. “That’s all for now.”

* * *

  
  
“He said what?” Ferris had been eating when Lucky and Bigman arrived, and now he threw down his cutlery in disgust. “That’s about the worst thing I’ve ever heard!” 

“Worse than your pilot dying?” Bigman crossed his arms. Lucky threw him a look. 

“What?” Ferris snapped at him, then seemed to catch himself, and settled into calm. “No. Of course not. I’m sorry, it’s just… being accused of treating a woman like that! Jameson has some nerve.” He snorted. “Well, I guess I knew that already.” 

Lucky nodded. “We’d just like to know your whereabouts this afternoon.” 

“Yes. Of course. I was in the lab all morning, until you arrived. After you left engineering, I tried to keep Adernan and Jameson from having a fistfight in front of Jørgensen. She was such a sweet, polite woman.” 

“You think it would have come to that?”

“No, not really. I wouldn’t put it past Jameson to throw a punch, but Adernan uses his words as weapons, not his hands. Regardless, I didn’t want Jørgensen to have to deal with those two on her first day.” 

“Was that why you asked to show her around the station?” 

Ferris brightened. “Yes, exactly! We call it the World Tour, you know, because we call the station The Globe? I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable, or for either of those idiots to follow her when she left. We were about to leave when Jameson jumped in, and she went with him right away. Probably because, like I said, she was so polite. I felt sorry for her.” 

“What then,” Lucky asked him, “did you go anywhere else?” 

“Yes, I had my weekly report to give to Professor Williams. I finished some work in the lab, then took it up to him. Jørgensen came in to see him as I left, with that jerk Jameson in tow. I suppose…” his face fell. “That was the last time I saw her alive.” 

“And after that?”

“I went to my quarters.” Ferris shrugged. “Sorry, I can’t imagine there’s anything useful in all of that.” 

“We’re just gathering all the information we can get, for now.” Lucky put his notepad away. “Thank you.”

“Do you think someone did something to her?” Ferris looked up at them, eyes wide with what was either worry or fear. “I can’t see the Council of Science investigating a death from T20.”

“We still don’t know the exact cause of death.” They did, but Bigman didn’t see a reason to tell any potential suspects that, and clearly Lucky agreed. 

“You’ll hear from us if we need anything else,” Bigman said, straightening his mask. And whatever Ferris thought, he didn’t have anything to say to that. 

  
  


* * *

“I feel I must apologize for my behavior earlier today.” Professor Williams had met them in his office, a large, oval room with the usual viewport along one wall. There was a door at the back, which connected directly to his private quarters, he’d explained when they came in. He had offered them a seat on the spacious sofa opposite his desk, but Lucky had declined; the more distance they kept between them, the better. 

“No reason to apologize, Professor. What happened to Jørgensen must have been a shock for you.”

The Professor himself was seated behind his desk, hands steepled in front of his face. “Yes, but I’m a professional, and I’m in charge of this station and this project. I should have handled it better.” He sighed, and sat up straighter, meeting Lucky and Bigman’s eyes in turn. “In the interest of transparency, I need to explain something. I had quite a shock this morning, and I was ill prepared for it. It’s put me on edge all day.”

This morning? Bigman narrowed his eyes. Jørgensen had died this afternoon. “What sort of a shock?”

“To speak plainly, I was unaware of the… sex of our pilot.”

“You didn’t know she was a woman?” Lucky seemed surprised. Well, so was Bigman. “Did you receive her records?”

“Yes, I did. There was no picture attached, and I suppose I wasn’t looking too closely at the personal information section. It’s not like I was expecting… anything like this.” 

“So you were surprised,” Bigman took a step forward, and Lucky pushed him gently back. Oh, right, he kept forgetting. “I get it, it’s rare to see a woman anywhere in space. But what was the big deal about it?”

“As I’m sure you know,” he looked at Bigman and Lucky again, in turn, “this is a highly prestigious and important project for Earth’s interests. We already have a Sirian defector on board, and a female Doctor, excellent though she may be. It seems to me the height of arrogance to treat us as a proving ground for…” he grunted, “diversity experiments.” 

“You didn’t think Jørgensen was qualified?” 

“It hardly matters whether or not she was qualified; she was a woman! We assumed, naturally, that our pilot would be male. There is hardly any data, if any at all, on female pilot behavior and requirements. Quite honestly, I was worried tonight’s test would be considerably delayed.”

“It’s definitely delayed now,” Bigman muttered. If Lucky heard him, he did not react. 

“When they send us another pilot, I’m going to insist they send a man.” He shook his head. “I can hardly believe I’m saying that. It’s like having to insist they fuel the supply ship.” 

“Forgive the implication, Professor,” Lucky said, “but would it be fair to say you’ve benefited from Jørgensen’s untimely death?” 

“Benefited!” Professor Williams spluttered. “We’re delayed by months! We can’t expect to keep our crew here with nothing to do; some of them are likely to take positions elsewhere. Meanwhile, we know the Sirians have the same technology. They could be working on their own experimental crafts right now. What good will the Saturn Accords do us, then?”

“ _ What good? _ ” Bigman took another step forward, and this time, Lucky didn’t stop him. “Why, you lousy, good-for nothing…”

“I’m sure the Professor didn’t mean it like that,” Lucky said, his voice even. “Like he just said, he’s had a trying day.” 

Reluctantly, Bigman stepped back. Professor Williams looked a little pale. “Yes,” he said, “just so. It would seem I owe you another apology.”

“Not at all. Let’s continue; where were you this afternoon?”

“Here in my office, mostly. I came down in the morning to greet Jørgensen, then you shortly afterwards. After that, I went back here to get some paperwork in order before the test.”

“I understand both Ferris and Jørgensen came to see you?”

“Yes. Ferris came first; he writes a weekly report for me which was due today. We chatted for a while about the test. Ferris had no concerns about Jørgensen at all; in fact, he was overflowing with praise about her. I may have gotten a little short with him. I was showing him the door when Jørgensen arrived.” 

“And after she left?” 

Professor Williams grimaced. “I worry now that I should have done something sooner. She was complaining about being short of breath and nauseous when she came in. But I was still agitated from my conversation with Ferris, and seeing as how she was the cause of that disagreement, I’ll admit I tried to ignore her for a while.”

“Why was she in your office?” 

“She had to sign some papers, confirm that we had all the information we needed. I also gave her the access codes to our systems, just administrative minutiae.” 

“And then,” Bigman mused, “she got so sick she had to leave?”

“She kept getting worse. When she eventually excused herself and ran out, it took me a moment or two to realize what had happened. That’s when I ran straight to you.”

“Not to Jørgensen? Or Doctor Bryson?” 

“I called Doctor Bryson on the intercom before I left.”

Lucky and Bigman exchanged glances. Lucky looked tired. Maybe they should get a bite to eat; he hadn’t had much for breakfast, and nothing for lunch. Neither had Bigman, but though he liked to complain, he could tough it out. 

“Thank you, Professor,” Lucky said, “We’ll be in touch.” 

  
  


* * *

It took all of Bigman’s persuasive powers to get Lucky to agree to a quick dinner before their next interview. The station had a fully automated kitchen, and in lockdown-mode, it dispensed each meal in a sealed container, complete with cutlery, napkins and a tray. It was zymochicken and potatoes, nothing fancy, but the potatoes were real and delicious. There was even some near-butter on them, and a big tub of gravy, which Bigman immediately poured all over the meat and two lonely carrots completing the picture. He was almost done when he looked over at Lucky to see that the other man hadn’t even started eating. 

“Come on, Lucky! I’m not leaving this room until you’ve had a decent meal. You can’t keep going on an empty stomach; you know that.”

Lucky shrugged. He was waving his fork back and forth across the plate, making patterns in the melted near-butter. “It’s good of you to take care of me, but I’ll be fine.”

“What’s the matter? No appetite?”

“I know I should eat something, but…” he turned to look out of the viewport, which Bigman had programmed to show Uranus from its side, with the rings clear and striking, like a ribbon across a birthday present. “I know it’s been stressful for you with the lockdown back on Earth. And now we’re right back at it again. It’s hardly fair.”

“Aw, Lucky! I’m doing okay. It’s not that long.” And they were together. Now that he came to think about it, Bigman couldn’t come up with a single place he’d mind being stuck in, so long as Lucky was right there along with him. 

“It gets to me too, you know. And now we’re looking at trouble with the Sirians, after all we went through-”

“Wait a minute!” Bigman’s eyes flashed red. “It was what that fathead Professor said about the Accords, wasn’t it? I ought to march right back up there and give him a piece of my mind!” 

“No…” Lucky’s hand shot out, and just like that, it was resting on Bigman’s arm. Bigman looked down at it, how it nearly wrapped around his wrist. He swallowed. “Stay here,” Lucky muttered. “I’ll eat, I promise.”

“Yeah.” The hand was still on his arm. “Sure, Lucky. I’ll stay here with you.” 

They ate the rest of the meal in silence. 

  
  


* * *

All in all, Bigman wasn’t sure how he’d feel about getting up close and personal with a Sirian again. Seeing the man earlier, it hadn’t really registered who and what he was; there had been so many new things and distractions around. Now though, just him, Bigman and Lucky in a room, it was so obvious it gave him chills. 

“Won’t you sit down?” Adernan waved to the two chairs by his table. Of course, this room was identical to the others.

“Thank you, but it’s best if we remain here. Limiting the risk of infection.”

“Ah yes,” Adernan smiled, thinly, “you still struggle with viruses. Forgive me; it’s easy to forget.”

“Forget?” Bigman felt his blood rising. “We’ve been struggling with T20 for a year, now!” 

Adernan shrugged. “On Earth, perhaps. Up here, we’re blissfully unaware of politics.”

“Politics? It’s health!” 

“It’s still politics, Councilman… no, you’re not an official council member, are you?”

Bigman bristled, but he could  _ feel  _ Lucky willing him to settle down. “What difference does that make?”

“Oh, very little, I suppose.” He gave a smile at the word little, and Bigman had to clench his fists so hard his fingernails dug into his palm. “But as to my point; health is politics. I come from a culture where weakness to illness is carefully bred out of the population.”

“So you’re immune to T20,” Lucky asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Sadly, no. But had T20 reached Sirian population centers, we would have begun selectively breeding out susceptibility for it.” 

“I see.” Lucky pulled out his pad. “Well, we won’t bother you for long, Mr. Adernan; we’d simply like to know your whereabouts this afternoon.” 

Adernan did not so much as blink. “To rule me out as a murderer? Or is it a spy you’re looking for?”

“We’re just gathering information right now.”

Adernan waved a pleased finger at him. “Now that’s a political response. Well done. I’ll be glad to supply it. I was in my quarters this morning, reading over my notes for the test. I met up with Jameson around 10 to greet our new pilot, and shortly after that, you arrived.”

“And after we left?”

“We spent some time chatting with the pilot - Jørgensen, wasn’t it? From what little time I spent with her, she seemed utterly competent and professional.”

“You had no issues with a female pilot,” Lucky asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Why should I? Gender bias in professions is an Earth phenomenon. If she was able to succeed despite your primitive ideas holding her back, she must have been highly skilled indeed.”

Bigman had to admit he had a point, somewhere in between his insults. He didn’t quite know what to do with that. “Thank you,” Lucky said, scribbling notes. “We’ve been told Jørgensen left with Jameson?”

“Oh yes, eventually. That upstart Ferris was all over her; it was embarrassing, frankly. I’m sure you’re aware by now that there’s no love lost between Jameson and myself, but he handled that situation nicely. I’ll give him that.”

“So Ferris was definitely bothering Jørgensen?”

“I’m sure he told you otherwise! Maybe he even believed it himself, but he was all over her.”

Lucky nodded, and gestured for him to continue. 

“After that, I remained in engineering for a while, going over the launch procedures one last time. Then I retired to my quarters.”

“I see.” Lucky tapped his pen against the pad’s screen. “One last question, Mr. Adernan, if you’ll indulge us.”

Adernan shrugged. For a Sirian, he was remarkably laid-back; he slumped a little rather than standing ramrod straight like the other Sirians Bigman had met, and his lips were perpetually curled up in a half-smile. “I have nothing better to do with my time.”

“Thank you. My question is simply this: Why did you decide to leave Sirius for Earth? A scientist of your caliber should be at the height of his career, at your age. Most Sirians consider their own culture and technology to be vastly superior to that of Earth. What was the appeal?” 

“You mean,” Adernan smiled, slowly, “am I a spy?”

Lucky made a gesture like he wasn’t going to disagree. “I’m sure you’re aware of the concern that Sirius might interfere with this project.”

“A fair point, and you deserve an answer.” He paused, as if to gather himself. “I suffer from a rare condition which, among other things, leaves me unable to procreate. The condition is nearly impossible to detect in infancy, which is why I was not selected for termination after birth.”

Bigman shuddered. He would never get used to hearing about the barbaric customs of Sirian eugenics. 

“They did not find out about my abnormality until my 19th year physical evaluation, when I was already being trained as an engineer. Since I was too old to be legally terminated, and the condition does not affect my health in other than negligible ways, I was allowed to continue my education and eventually begin working.”

“That sounds surprisingly generous, for Sirius.” 

“Well, they couldn’t very well kill me. That would be wasteful; a lot of time and money had been invested in my schooling. A return was expected.”

“Then what made you want to leave?”

“I was never fully accepted. I would be offered work, but only on low status projects; the jobs no one else wanted. I had no social life to speak of, other than with other undesirables, which was worse, in a way. We all despised one another. I knew I had no future, no chance to improve myself or advance my career.” He spoke matter-of-factly, like he was describing a new sort of spaceship engine. No emotion registered on his face. 

“And so you thought you’d come to Earth,” Bigman asked, arms crossed. He didn’t trust this cobber, not one bit. 

“On the contrary, I thought Earth was some sort of primitive slum. I spent decades of my life in this miserable existence before I realized I had another option available to me.” 

“What changed your mind?” 

“Actually, it was the Saturn Accords.” 

Lucky looked up, sharply, and Adernan laughed.

“I thought that might surprise you. You see, the Accords got a lot of attention; there were public debates, bookfilms, even dramatized serials. It dawned on me that someone with my skills and knowledge could thrive on Earth. I would be - what’s the expression? A big fish in a small pond.” He smiled again. It only barely reached his eyes. 

“When did you defect?”

“Almost immediately. I gathered as much technical info from the places where I’d been working as I could, stole a ship, and went right to the Council base on Saturn. I was recruited for the Uranus project just a few days later.” 

“So,” Lucky seemed distracted. Bigman tried to read what was going on behind his narrowed eyes. “You haven’t been here long.”

“Hardly any time at all. Other than that dreary base on Saturn, all I’ve seen is this station. I must admit I’m curious about the sprawling cities of Earth and Luna, but I’m sure there will be time for that once the Uranus base is up and running.” 

A base on Uranus! Bigman had almost forgotten. His eyes were drawn to the mesmerizing blue-green expanse in the viewport, and imagined little floating buildings far, far down below the storms of the atmosphere. 

“Of course,” Lucky said, slowly, “That may take some time now.”

Adernan shrugged. “What’s a few extra months? I’m not exactly worried I’d be out of a job, when the project wouldn’t exist without me. Honestly, I’m the one person in the crew that would have no concerns in that regard.”

“What do you mean?” Bigman furrowed his brow. 

“Williams is old. This will probably be his last assignment, and he’s determined to make history. Make a name for himself. If the delays go on too long, there’s a risk they might replace him. If Williams goes, Ferris goes with him; a new project lead will likely bring their own assistants in. Bryson may be good, but she rather made a mess of this whole situation, didn’t she? Jørgensen should have been more thoroughly tested on arrival, as should you two. She’s the reason we’re in this tiresome mess.”

“A murder is a bit more than a mess,” Bigman grumbled, “wouldn’t you say?”

“Your words, not mine. There’s no evidence of murder, yet.”

“What about Jameson?” There was Lucky, always bringing them back on track. 

“Ah, Jameson…” That smile again. It gave Bigman chills. “ He’s barely doing anything as is. Why should they want to keep him?” 

* * *

The light outside Doctor Bryson’s office was red, but when Lucky touched his palm to the reader, it flicked right over to green, and opened. Doctor Bryson stood up from behind her desk, and waved them in. 

“Good to see you again, gentlemen, despite the circumstances. I’m glad someone is taking charge of the situation; Williams is all over the place. I’d ask you to sit down, but…”

Lucky waved a hand. “We’ll stand; safety first. Doctor Bryson, I’m going to have to ask you about your whereabouts this afternoon.”

“All right. Only fair, I suppose. I was here in the medical bay all day; the door logs will verify that. Jørgensen was my first patient, no one stopped by before then. You two came by later, and that’s about it.”

“And you tested Jørgensen immediately?”

“Yes. I went through her medical records with her, clarifying a few things, and then I gave her the standard quick-test with the diagno-stick. I gave her the all-clear, and she left.”

“Did she complain about nausea or dizziness, anything like that?”

“No, not at all. But now you mention it, she did look a little pale.”

“How long would it take for the virus to show symptoms after infection?” 

“T20 has a very short incubation period, as I’m sure you know. How long exactly depends on the patient; some show symptoms almost immediately, some are symptom free for months.” 

Lucky tapped his fingers against the pad. He didn’t seem to be writing anything. “Thank you. We’ll go over our findings and get in touch if we have any further questions.”

“Actually,” Bigman said, “I have a question.”

Lucky raised his eyebrows, but let him speak.

“No one knew Jørgensen was a woman. Professor Williams didn’t seem so keen on the idea. What about the rest of the crew? Have they ever said anything to you about women in space, and how they feel about it?”

Doctor Bryson clenched her fist. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“You do know what I mean,” Bigman raised a finger at her, “did anyone here dislike women so much-”

“That they’d kill her,” Doctor Bryson exclaimed. “Why, that’s absurd! Do you think I would still be here, if that was the case?” She sighed, slumping back in her chair. “Believe me, it’s not easy, being the only female on a station like this, working so closely with men who aren’t used to having women around. When I found out that Jørgensen was a woman - there is no way I can possibly explain to you how that made me feel. A  _ woman _ , being the first man, no,” she corrected herself, “person to land on Uranus? Suddenly I felt like my whole life, my entire career, was validated. I wasn’t just an anomaly; something to be tolerated. I was a crewman, just like anyone else. What that would have meant, to every woman in the solar system…” For a moment, she closed her eyes, then exhaled, slowly. “Gentlemen, I can’t even begin to describe it.” 

“I see.” Lucky tapped his pad again, slowly. “Thank you, Doctor Bryson.” He glanced at the door. 

“Actually,” Doctor Bryson said, hurriedly, “if you’re leaving, could Mister Jones stay behind? There are some minor points in his medical history I’d like to clear up.”

Bigman froze. “It’s Bigman,” he said, automatically. 

“All right, Bigman. It’s nothing dangerous or anything like that,” she said, seeing Lucky’s expression of surprise, and possibly Bigman’s fear, “but it  _ is  _ confidential.” 

“I see.” Lucky cleared his throat. “I’ll see you back in our quarters later,” he told Bigman, walking out, the surprise on his face fading to disappointment. Maybe was expecting Bigman to object. That would be the nice, decent thing to do for a close friend, wouldn’t it? Show you trusted him with everything? Bigman’s heart sank as the door closed. 

“What’s the big idea,” he grumbled, fixing Doctor Bryson with a glare. “You said I was perfectly healthy.”   
  


“Oh yes, don’t worry; it’s nothing like that.” She leaned towards him and smiled, softly. “I just wanted to let you know, your secret is safe with me.”

  
  


* * *

The room was eerily quiet. Bigman wanted to say something, but it felt like his throat had clenched up. “Now wait a minute,” he managed eventually, his hands shaking. Sands of Mars, he felt like his whole body was shaking. “What do you mean, secret?”

“It’s all right.” Doctor Bryson sounded entirely different; softer, somehow. Certainly friendlier, not that she’d been unfriendly before. “You can trust me. You’d be surprised how many people are in the exact same situation as you.”

“And what situation would that be?” His records. He hadn’t even thought twice about it, but of course, it was all in there. What an idiot he was! 

“I’m a doctor. I notice things. I’ve also taken an oath not to share personal information. Such as,” she folded her hands, “birth certificates and early health assessments.” 

She knew. She clearly knew, and the game was up. All Bigman could do now was hope she was a man, or rather woman, of her word. “No one off Mars knows. Lucky doesn’t know. I’d die if he were to find out. Please…”

Doctor Bryson held her hand up. “I wouldn’t think of it.” She smiled again. “You’re very fond of Lucky, aren’t you?” 

Bigman nodded. He’d never felt so exposed, like he was standing there naked. 

“I thought as much. You should consider confiding in him; he may surprise you. I know of several couples-”

“We’re not a couple.”

She nodded, pursing her lips. “All right. I’m just saying, it’s possible to make things work between people like-”

“It’s not like that,” he said again, sharply. His nails were digging into his fists. 

She nodded again, sighing. “I won’t push it. Just know you have an ally in me.”

“Fine,” Bigman itched to get out of there. “I appreciate it. Anything else?” 

“No.” She rose, walking to the side of her desk. Bigman took a step back, automatically. “But I hope you’ll feel safe coming to me if you need help with anything.”

“I’m fine.” 

“You know, you’re not alone.”   
  
That got his attention. “Oh, yeah? You said that before. What do you mean; there are more people like me out here?” 

“Absolutely. There used to be a lot more, before they started letting women off planet.” 

Bigman frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?” 

“A lot of them did what you did.” 

“Become… farm boys?”

Doctor Bryson laughed a little. “No. They registered as gender incongruent. If you’re male on paper, no one has any problems letting you do whatever you want.”

Bigman stood very still. He felt like his heart was falling all the way through his chest into his gut. “Doctor. Ma’am. I’m not a woman. On or off paper.” He knew who he was. He’d known since he was ten years old. It had taken him another six to register, and then a year to get hormones and surgery for his chest, but he did, and he did it on his own. 

“You don’t have to pretend with me. I’m safe.” She raised her eyebrows and smiled, her teeth showing. “I know what it’s like to be desperate. If I hadn’t done as well as I did academically, I might have done the same thing. They don’t make you take drugs and all the operations are elective, but I don’t have to tell you that.”

“I couldn’t afford all of them.” Bigman felt his cheeks burn. And once he got to Earth, what was he going to do? Ask Lucky for the money? He’d throw him out on his ear. 

Doctor Bryson gave him this look that had to be pity. Bigman wanted to fall through the floor. “I know it’s hard to trust people. I’ve said enough. I hope you’ll come talk to me if you need anything.”

Bigman couldn’t bring himself to speak. He merely nodded, touched the wall contact, and sprinted out of there. 

* * *

  
  
  


“Everything okay?” Lucky sat by the desk, his pad in front of him, as Bigman entered their quarters. He looked up with a half-smile, pointedly not asking what all that had been about. 

“Yeah, she just needed to confirm some things from back on Mars,” Bigman said, hoping that would be vague enough. “Ancient history.”

If Lucky thought that was odd, he didn’t show it. “Good. I hope you’re not ready to go to bed yet?”

It was a joke, clearly a joke, yet Bigman stirred, uneasily. “What do you take me for? It’s still early. I say we stay up and crack this case!” 

“Well, I’d be surprised if we do, because we don’t have much to go on. Everyone who could have interfered with the environmental systems has an alibi.”

“Couldn’t they have tampered with the systems any time?”

“It couldn’t be done in an instant; they would need to get to a computer, then access the right systems, and figure out a way to override the safety protocols.”

“Adernan could have done it. He was alone most of the afternoon.”

“True, but he has no motive.”

“Unless he’s a spy.” Bigman slumped down in his chair. “He’s an engineer, it would be easy!” 

“Jameson is an engineer, too.”

“And what good would their pilot dying do him? You heard what he said; he wanted the tests to go ahead, so he could prove Adernan’s designs were no good.” 

Lucky waved a hand. “Nevertheless, we can’t rule him out. Or professor Williams. He didn’t seem too happy about having another woman on board.”

“Yeah,” Bigman said, frowning, “but he wouldn’t kill her, would he?”

“He has a lot riding on this project. As does Ferris.”

“And Ferris tried to…” Bigman cast about for the right term, “woo her, didn’t he? Jørgensen, I mean.” 

Lucky gave him a look. “You think he’d be upset enough from being rejected by her that he might try to kill her?”

Bigman sighed, exasperatedly. “I’m not saying anything at all. Everyone could have done it, and everyone had the opportunity.” 

“ _ If _ this was a murder,” Lucky said, tapping his finger against his chin, “whoever did it had a stroke of luck. It would have taken a lot longer for Jørgensen to asphyxiate if she hadn’t been weakened by the virus.”

“That’s a bit of a risk to take, isn’t it? They couldn’t know she was going to stay in her quarters; if she noticed it getting harder to breathe, she could have just left.”

“Yes. Unless they weren’t taking a risk.”

“What do you mean, Lucky?”

“I mean, there’s a chance the murderer knew Jørgensen was sick.”

“Say…” Bigman mused, “professor Williams knew that. He said she started feeling bad when she was in his office.”

“And he didn’t immediately go to check on her. He said it took him a while to realize something was wrong, but we only have his word for that.”

“But if he wanted her dead, then why come directly to us?”

“To make himself look less suspicious.”

Bigman hesitated. “I suppose…” Something didn’t add up. “I don’t know, Lucky. It could be anyone.”

“Yes. Even Doctor Bryson. She could have lied about Jørgensen’s test results.”

“Yeah, but she wouldn’t want to kill the first woman to land on Uranus!”

“You’re right, of course.” Lucky yawned. “I’ll get us some coffee from the machine. Let’s go over everything again, in detail.”

  
  


* * *

Night on the station wasn’t much different than night on the Shooting Starr, except there was more room here. As expected, Lucky had insisted on letting Bigman have the bed, but Bigman had protested until Lucky let him have a couple of spare blankets and pillows just to shut him up. Now he was rather comfortably settled on the floor next to the dormant viewscreen, still in his trousers and undershirt, but his churning thoughts would not let him sleep. They had gone over everyone’s motives and movements over and over again, until Lucky had started to complain about a headache. He was sleeping now, soundly, and that was at least something. 

Had Jørgensen been murdered? Who could have done it? Was there a Sirian spy on board? Bigman pulled his blanket tighter around himself and huffed in frustration. This was no good. They had to get more information, get under the skin of these people. But how? Over in the bed, Lucky was snoring. He looked so peaceful there, face all relaxed in the low light. He didn’t deserve this; none of them did; they should be on their way to the Lunar colony for a nice vacation, or back to Earth for some quiet days where they could actually go outside. But no, they were stuck on this waste of metal. 

Bigman stared at the viewscreen. The view sure was pretty, though, when you could see it. He couldn’t turn this one back on, or the light would wake Lucky, but maybe… He threw his blanket off, and looked over towards the door, where his boots had been neatly put away. The door would hardly make a sound; he could be out of here and back without Lucky noticing a thing. That screen in the labs had been spectacular; twice the size of this one! 

Grinning, Bigman made his way across the room in perfect silence, grabbed his boots, and headed out the door. 

  
  


* * *

Like most habitats, all areas of The Globe were darkened at the designated night time, allowing for a normal cicadean rhythm for the crew. The corridors were barely lit at all when Bigman stumbled his way through them, trying to remember the route they had taken. The stillness and lack of people made all the background noises come into stark relief; the low-pitched drone of the systems, the ventilation, the hum of little maintenance robots whirring away in unseen corners. Bigman was more relieved than he liked to admit when he saw the soft, teal glow at the end of the corridor. 

Just like when he’d seen it the first time, the view was spectacular. The blue-green disc of Uranus shone behind an array of orbiting satellites, the room as bright as day despite all the lights being off. Bigman stepped closer, walking between the workstations, eyes fixed on the breath-taking display. As focused as he was on what was in front of him, he couldn’t help noticing that some of the computers were still on. Had someone been working late? Maybe Ferris? But no one was supposed to be moving around the station, he thought, guiltily. Well, he’d been vaccinated, he was young and healthy; he’d be fine.  _ Yeah, and do you think that’s what Lucky will say, if he catches you? _ Trying to distract himself, Bigman walked even closer to the screen, until he could almost feel the glow; sense the cold from the surface, the wind from the storms in the atmosphere. Just as he was about to sit down right there on the floor to take it in, he noticed a movement at the edge of his vision. 

“Hey,” Bigman yelled, instinctively, spinning towards it, “who’s there?”

There was no reply. It took him a moment or two to realize the direction it had disappeared to - the engineering bay. 

* * *

  
  
Bigman was surprised when the engineering bay doors opened at his touch, but then again, professor Williams had given them access to the entire station. At the back of his mind, though, he’d assumed that only applied to Lucky. But here he was, and there, bent over the landing craft with a hyper-wrench and a serious expression, was Adernan. 

“Just what do you think you’re doing,” Bigman roared, rushing towards him. 

Adernan started, taking a step back. “Back off, you fool! The virus!” 

Oh, yeah. With considerable effort, Bigman kept his ground, effectively trapping Adernan in the far corner of the bay. It looked like the cobber wasn’t as nonchalant about this virus thing as he’d wanted them to believe! “What are you doing here?” Bigman kept shouting. If anyone heard them, so much the better. 

“Will you keep your voice down! Whatever you think it is I’m doing, you’re wrong.”

“Oh yeah? What  _ are  _ you doing? Dusting the place? Decorating for New Year’s Eve?” 

“I’m trying to keep the lander safe!” Adernan huddled against the back wall, scowling. “Must you stand so close?” 

“I’ll back off when you tell me what’s going on.” 

“Fine!” Adernan flinched. “Just get away from me! I’ve never trusted those Earth vaccines.” 

Slowly, carefully, Bigman stepped back. Adernan visibly relaxed. “Now,” he crossed his arms, “talk.”

“I don’t expect you to believe me, but for the past few weeks, I’ve noticed someone tampering with the landing craft.”

“Tampering? Like sabotaging it?”

Adernan shook his head. “I don’t know. I suppose… yes. The changes are sometimes subtle, sometimes significant, and rather than drawing attention to it, I’ve been quietly changing things back over night.”

So there  _ was  _ a spy on board. And it  _ wasn’t  _ Adernan! Bigman could barely stand still. “What sort of changes are we talking about?”

“Everything from removing features to adjusting the control systems, to adding features - one time, I had to remove a sheet of extra hull plating.” 

“Would that have made the craft stop working?”

“No, but it would have severely impacted performance. Certainly, it would have jeopardized the mission, and the trial run we were supposed to have today.”

Clever. By making subtle changes, the spy could make it seem like Adernan was to blame; if the mission failed, it would be easy to point to the designer. Especially when that designer was a Sirian defector. “When did you last check the craft?”

“This afternoon, when I was left alone here. I trust no one, least of all that idiot Williams. He has no idea what’s going on in his own station.” 

“And?”

“And, it was perfectly fine. It actually made me suspicious; why stop the sabotage just before the first test? Then again, they could have been waiting for the final mission; wanting to give me a false sense of security.”

There was, of course, another possibility, which came to Bigman with chilling clarity. “That’s all well and good,” he said, slowly, “but how do I know you’re not the one doing the sabotaging?” 

Adernan sighed in frustration. “Check my design documents, if you don’t believe me.”

“So if I do that, the design won’t match what the craft is like right now?”

“No! Confound it, I’ve already fixed the issues that were implemented this time.”

“All right; what were they?”

Adernan answered immediately. “The circuits for the steering manifold and door mechanisms were removed from the hull, the user interface operating system had been reverted to a previous and unstable iteration, and the communications antennae had been rendered useless with a coat of plasticrete.”

If he had made that up on the spot, he was as good a liar as he was an engineer. “I suppose I’ll have to take you at your word. Why haven’t you told anyone about this?”

Adernan straightened his back, looking down his nose at Bigman. “The Sirian defector reporting a sabotage of the experimental craft he’s designed? You can imagine how well that would go over. I was waiting to catch whoever has been doing this in the act.”

“You think he’ll come back again?” 

“He always has, every time I’ve removed all his efforts. I’ve never been able to catch him, but it had never occurred to me to stay here overnight, before. I assure you; he’ll be back. The fact that he’s kept at it even after Jørgensen died shows how determined he is to see this through. There won’t be a test now for months.” 

“I’ve heard all I need to hear. Get back to your quarters, and don’t say a word about this to anyone.” 

Adernan hesitated. “But the saboteur; someone has to stop him!”

“Oh,” Bigman said, a smile slowly forming, “I will.” 

  
  


* * *

The advantage to having a compact body, and not being an over-sized beanstalk like Adernan, Bigman mused, was that he could more easily hide in the little engineering bay. A stack of crates that wouldn’t have covered Adernan even if he’d sat down and bent his back, concealed Bigman perfectly. Waiting all night for someone to possibly show up wasn’t the most interesting task, but Bigman had gotten used to long space flights, and making his own entertainment. Not that watching Lucky wasn’t entertaining in itself! 

And yes, Lucky… a dangerous train of thought, that, but at least it would keep him alert and awake. And what harm did it do the other man, if Bigman spent a little time mulling over what it would be like if things were different? If Bigman were like Lucky - not in every way, of course; he wouldn’t want to be so tall and long-legged, for one! But if he had the sort of things Lucky liked in a man - if Lucky liked men in that way - then maybe… maybe the idea of the two of them finding comfort together wouldn’t be so impossible. Bigman remembered Doctor Bryson’s face; a mask of misplaced concern, and shuddered. He never wanted to see that look on Lucky. Not ever, not for anything. 

Bigman leaned back against the wall, keeping his eyes on the bay’s entrance. Boy, wouldn’t it be something if he managed to catch the spy, all on his own? There was a part of Bigman that always thought that if he worked hard enough, got enough things right, did everything as best he could, then he would become so successful he could apply for his own surgeries without having to mention Lucky’s name. The money, he could always save up; Lucky gave him a generous living wage, and he’d put a little something by every month, but there were waiting lists for elective surgery. If he was going to get them done in secret, he’d have to wait until his name carried the weight that Lucky’s did. And who was he kidding… he paused. The engineering bay doors were slowly opening. 

“Got you,” Bigman muttered, sinking further back into the shadows. The person entering quickly touched the light switch, keeping the room dark. That made sense; if they got caught in the act, the darkness would make it easier to disappear without being recognized. Stil, Bigman wondered, how was he going to get any work done with the lights off? 

The figure moved closer to the craft, running his hands over the hull. Bigman kept silent, clenching his fists to keep from breathing too loudly. He had to wait until he’d seen actual evidence of tampering. After all, there was nothing inherently wrong with walking into the engineering bay at night and caressing an experimental ship. He wrinkled his nose. It was more than a little weird, though. “No,” the man muttered, turning away from the ship and heading over to one of the work tables. “He’s fast, damn him.” 

The spy knew Adernan was on to him! And now he was going to redo all of his sabotage, maybe even make it worse. Bigman held himself back. If only he’d thought to bring a camera! But he hadn’t planned on any of this, and even his personal pocket computer was back in his and Lucky’s rooms.  _ Come on _ , he willed the spy.  _ Do your worst.  _

Hardly a minute, and the mysterious figure was back, holding what looked like a spray-can of plasticrete. Bigman couldn’t help but gasp - the antennae! Just like Adernan had said. The spy shook the can vigorously, and started to apply a thick layer all the way around the communications array. 

“Stop right there!” Bigman jumped forward, his voice booming, bouncing off the metal walls. The spy froze, still holding the can. “On behalf of the Council of Science, I place you under arrest on the suspicion of-” the man moved quickly, dropping the can and tapping quickly at the craft’s external controls. “Stop,” Bigman yelled again, “what are you doing?”

With an extended hiss, the enduro-glass top of the cockpit pulled back. Before Bigman realized what was going on, the spy had jumped into the craft and was about to pull the door shut. The dark, semi-transparent plates began to move back into place with a sound of glass sliding against metal. Bigman didn’t think, he just reacted, and in two quick steps he was by the craft, throwing himself into the cockpit just as the cover closed again.

All of a sudden, alarms glared; a sharp, red light bathed everything, nearly blinding Bigman, and he heard the unmistakable sound of airlock doors pulling open. He was wedged tight into the little cockpit; the spy’s elbow was in his face, and his knees were dangerously close to Bigman’s groin. “Give it up,” Bigman snarled, kicking and shoving the other man, trying to right himself. He could feel the craft moving, and swore under his breath. 

“Get off me, you idiot!” That voice - it was Jameson! Bigman kicked harder, pressing hard against the back wall of the cockpit. Somehow, he had managed to position himself behind Jameson, his legs splayed on either side of the other man. A yelp of pain told him he must have hit something, but the craft kept moving. 

“It’s a little closer than I would have wanted,” Jameson grunted, “but at least I have my audience!” The alarms faded a little as they slid into the airlock, the doors closing behind them and cutting off the sound. 

“What in all of space are you talking about?” Bigman kicked him again, for good measure. He couldn’t see anything except Jameson’s back. 

“You’ll see.” Air started hissing, the airlock emptying. Jameson’s arms moved fast, his elbows jabbing into Bigman as he clearly worked the instrument board. 

“See what? I can’t even see out the viewport!” 

Jameson shushed him, and the doors opened. With a jolt of acceleration, they were spat out of the station like an orange pit from a farm boy’s mouth. Bigman twisted and turned to try to see how fast they were moving, but bits of Jameson kept getting in the way. “We know what you did,” Bigman told him, “there’s no use running.” A spy  _ and  _ a killer! He’d be in rehabilitation for life. Though why he’d want to kill Jørgensen was a mystery. 

“Idiot,” Jameson muttered. “I’m not running. This is a demonstration.”

“A demonstration? A demonstration of what?” 

“That stuck-up loser Adernan’s hack job of a craft design.” Bigman still couldn’t see anything, but he could feel they were turning. Changing direction? “When Williams sees this, he’ll send that Sirian bastard packing, and make me chief engineer!” 

Bigman’s mind reeled. “Wait - you’re trying to prove that the craft doesn’t work properly?” 

“I told you; Adernan’s designs are no good. When he refused to listen, I tried to make the changes myself, but he keeps changing it back. Stubborn fool. When you caught me, I figured the only thing I could do was demonstrate. Show everyone exactly what I meant.” 

“But…” Even through the tiny gaps through which Bigman could see, the Uranian glow was glaring. “You’re actually going to land, aren’t you? If you’re right about this thing not working properly, that’ll kill us both!” 

“Of course not. The lander is being monitored from the station. As soon as they see how bad of a shape we’re in, they’ll take remote control and steer us back. 

“It’s in the middle of the night, you sand-brained idiot! Everyone’s asleep, no one is going to see anything.”

“After those alarms went off? Want to bet?”

Before Bigman could answer, the booming voice of professor Williams came through the comm-link. “Jameson? What are you doing, man! Come back immediately!” 

“Just out for a test run, boss. Don’t mind me.”

“You’re not trained for this! You are to return to the station immediately, or-”

“Or what; you’ll fire me?”

“You’re already fired! If you bring the lander back willingly, I’ll consider not turning you over to the Council for rehabilitation!” 

“I can take him down, professor,” Bigman yelled, trying to force Jameson away from the controls with his foot. “Leave it to me!” 

“Bigman?” It was Lucky’s voice. “What are you doing there? Never mind; good work on finding the saboteur. We’re going to bring you in.”

“Saboteur!” Jameson elbowed Bigman’s thigh. “I’m saving this entire mission! You’d never know how dangerous Adernan’s designs are, without me.”

“You leave us no choice.” Bigman heard muffled voices after professor Williams stopped speaking, mixed with the clicking of Jameson working at the controls. Then Williams was back again, sounding breathless. “Jameson, what have you done! The remote control isn’t working. We can’t override.” 

“What?” Jameson tried to turn, but Bigman kicked him. “The override should work; that was the only thing I was able to fix before this angry little lap dog got to me.” 

“Between the two of you, you probably fiddled so much with the damn thing that it fell off,” Bigman yelled. 

“Well, never mind, it’s to my advantage now, anyway. Brace yourself, farmboy; we’re going in.” Bigman could hear the hum of the accelerators warming up. 

“You’re mad! You think the lander isn’t going to make the trip, and you’re doing it anyway?”

“The override will come back on; I fixed it! They’ll see! Adernans work will fail, and mine will triumph!” 

There was no talking to him. With a roar, Bigman tried to throw himself forward, using his arms, legs, his whole body to wrench Jameson away from the controls. 

“Why, you little…” Jameson caught Bigman’s head, and smashed it hard against the viewscreen. The last thing Bigman saw before he blacked out was the searing glow of Uranus; blue and green forever, burned into his retinas. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Slowly, Bigman opened his eyes. Grey. A smooth metal ceiling. And his head hurt… he tried to sit up, but friendly hands held him back. 

A concerned face came into view, furrowed brows over deep brown eyes. “You have a nasty concussion.” Lucky! Bigman tried to scramble up again, but Lucky still had his hand on Bigman’s chest. That... felt really good, actually. “You’ll need to take it easy for a while. Don’t worry, I’ll be here to annoy you, so you won’t get bored.” His face softened, and he smiled.  _ Really  _ smiled, like Bigman couldn’t remember ever seeing before. 

“What happened? Where’s Jameson?”

“Confined to his quarters until the Council corrections officers can get here. He’s going to be in rehabilitation for a long time.”

“Good.” Bigman settled back. “At least that’s something.” 

Another figure approached him - shorter than Lucky… Bigman’s eyesight was still blurry. “I think that’s enough for now; I shouldn’t have let you stay in here so long. We don’t want to overtax him.” 

“Doctor Bryson! I didn’t see you, there.” So long? Had Lucky been watching over him? 

“She’s been patching you up.” Lucky still hadn’t moved his hand, not that Bigman minded. He wondered what Doctor Bryson must be making of all this. 

“I guess I needed it, after a scuffle like that. But Lucky; how did I get back on The Globe? Last thing I remember, we were about to hurtle into Uranus’s atmosphere!” 

Lucky shrugged. “We couldn’t get the override to work, so I strapped on a suit and came to get you. It was what you said that made me realize the antenna might have gotten loose, so I brought another one. Managed to slap it on to the hull with a magnet grip, so we could take control and drag you back here.”

The way he said it, like it was nothing. “Great Space, Lucky! How did you manage to pull that off?”

Lucky waved a hand. He never did like to talk about himself. “It was nothing, really. You did the real work, by getting Jameson talking, and distracting him for long enough for me to make my move.”

Bigman’s head was spinning. Had he helped Lucky? Then it was all worth it. The quarantine, the injury, the boring days in bed. “There’s one thing I don’t get though.”

“What’s that, Bigman?”

“Why did Jameson kill Jørgensen? He had no reason to. In fact, when she died, he lost his opportunity to show off how dangerous he thought Adnernan’s designs were.” Or the so-called genius of his own. 

“That’s easy enough: He didn’t.”

“He didn’t?” Bigman frowned. “He had the opportunity to turn off the oxygen supply, being an engineer and all...” 

“The oxygen supply was pure negligence. Jameson didn’t care much for his maintenance duties. And as you say, he had no motive.”

“Then who did?”

Lucky took his hand off Bigman’s chest, finally, and moved to stand beside him, his smile fading. “Very good question.”

“All right,” Doctor Bryson cut in, “really, that’s enough for now. I have to examine Mr. Jones, and then he needs to rest.”

“Bigman,” Bigman corrected her. “And it’s all right; Lucky can stay.”

She met his eyes, and the full meaning of what she had just said, penetrated.  _ Examine _ . “Are you sure about that,” she asked, gently. 

“Actually-”

“It’s fine.” Lucky’s voice was clear and loud, startling both Bigman and the doctor. “I’ll be staying.”

“I don’t think you understand; he has cuts and bruises all over his body. I will have to,” she glanced quickly at Bigman, like he hadn’t gotten the point loud and clearly already, “remove his clothes.”

“I won’t see anything that will surprise me.” Bigman turned to look at him, sharply, immediately regretting it as his head exploded in pain. He felt sick and dizzy, and he wasn’t sure if it was the concussion or what Lucky had just said. 

“I…” Doctor Bryson gawped. She had opened her medical bag, and now stood holding it haplessly, eyes darting between Lucky and Bigman. 

“You weren’t expecting me to say that. I know. Doctor, Bigman has been with me for years. He’s been injured many times, and we just went through a pandemic. What made you think I was unaware of his medical history?”

“Really,” she muttered, “I don’t see how any of this is relevant-”

“In fact, that’s what made me curious. I realized you’d wanted to speak to him about his gender incongruity; both from how he acted when he came back, and because it’s the only thing in his medical history a doctor might want to discuss in private. But I asked myself, why?”

“Lucky,” Bigman protested; the doc had just tried to protect him, after all, even though she’d gone about it in a terrible way. But Lucky waved him off. 

“Who do  _ you  _ think killed Emily Jørgensen, Doctor? I believe you’ve finished the autopsy?” 

“Why, yes..” she looked at Lucky, uncertainly, then glanced over at Bigman. “I’m not sure I have any more of an idea than you do, Councilman.”

“The autopsy didn’t reveal anything?” 

“Nothing of note, no…” She was looking at the door, now. Bigman shuffled back against his pillow, supporting his head so he could see her better. What was going on?

“That’s very interesting. You did not, for example, notice any needle marks on her wrist?”

“Oh.” Doctor Bryson blinked. “Yes, as a matter of fact… I noticed that. She had probably taken some space-sickness injections before arriving. That’s fairly common.”

“For a trained pilot?”

“I haven’t met that many trained pilots. Certainly no one like Ms. Jørgensen.”

Lucky smiled, grimly. “No, I’m sure you haven’t. Come off it, Doctor Bryson; the game is up.”

She paled. “What? What do you mean?”

“You knew Jørgensen hadn’t been properly vaccinated. You noticed that in her medical records before she arrived. You told her you’d give her a booster shot, but what you actually injected her with, was a highly aggressive strain of T20.”

Bigman gasped. Doctor Bryson ran towards the door, but Lucky was faster, catching her by the wrist. “Let me go,” she snarled, but Lucky held her just as firmly as an ionsteel cuff would have. 

“But why!” Bigman struggled to straighten up and see. “Jørgensen would have been the first woman on Uranus; the first woman to set foot before a man on any planet in the solar system.”

Something happened to Doctor Bryson’s face. Even from his bed, with his eyes still blurry, Bigman could see it. She turned to Lucky, looking like she was ready to tear him apart. “Because  _ Jørgensen wasn’t a woman _ ,” she snarled. 

“Not a woman!” Bigman gasped. “What do you mean? Lucky; what does she mean?”

“You don’t know what it’s like!” Doctor Bryson struggled in Lucky’s grip. “I had to wait  _ thirty years  _ until I was allowed to go off world, and I had to be the best in my field; better than the best! I had to be perfect and unscruitable. I had to give up family, children, any sort of normal life. I had to endure cruelty and mockery from men who should have been my peers, but who were more often than not less educated and less intelligent. I had to pretend to laugh at their jokes, gloss over their dismissive attitudes. But I made it! And just as I think there’s a chance; there’s hope that women can thrive out here, that the tide is turning, they send  _ Jørgensen  _ up here.” She spat out the name. 

“The first woman on Uranus,” Lucky said, quietly. 

“Jørgensen was a man! I saw it in his records, just before he arrived. Can you imagine what that felt like? To think I was about to get another woman to work with; a friend, someone who had fought as hard as I had. And then it turned out to be just a man who thought he’d be better off pretending to be a woman.”

Bigman’s head was spinning. “She was gender incongruent?”

“There’s no such thing,” Doctor Bryson yelled. “That’s nothing but a convenient label for women who can’t get into space without pretending to be men, and men who think they can prey on innocent women by disguising themselves as one of them.” 

“She was a woman.” Lucky’s voice was calm, but his eyes were burning. “Ethically, legally and officially. But you didn’t care about that part of her records; you focused on the surgeries and treatments she’d had as a child and young adult. Once I realized you’d been talking to Bigman about his gender status, I suspected you might have a bias. After all, there was no reason for you to even mention it to him, otherwise. It made me think to check Jørgensen’s records, and when I found she was gender incongruent too-”

Doctor Bryson snorted at the word.

“- I saw that you not only had the opportunity and means - you keep several strains of T20 here to manufacture the vaccine - you had a possible motive, too.” 

“It’s not like I planned it. I was angry, yes! Angry and helpless. But then I saw the vaccine records, and knew that all I had to do was pick up a syringe and load it…” 

“And so,” Lucky held her firmly, shifting his grip as she tried to twist out of it, “you killed her.”

“You’re damn right, I killed him! Do you know how long it took them to decide to give that imposter this job? Just a day. He was hired on the spot. It took me,” she said again, “thirty years to even be considered for space work.”

“Her,” Lucky said, his voice sharp. “You killed  _ her _ .”

Doctor Bryson snorted. “Oh, what does it matter. I just admitted to murder, and you’re arguing semantics.” 

“You’re right.” Lucky fished around in his pocket for a set of magno-cuffs, which expanded around Doctor Bryson’s wrists. “What you think hardly matters. I’m escorting you to your quarters, where you will be held until the corrections officers arrive.” 

Bigman stared at them, his head aching. When Lucky palmed the door open, Doctor Bryson turned towards him and met his eyes. “I don’t have to tell you, desperate people do desperate things.” She smiled at him, sadly. 

“Lucky,” Bigman muttered, “get her out of here, would ya?” 

* * *

It took almost a week before Bigman was able to walk around the station, which coincided nicely with the end of quarantine. The Globe was busier than ever, with Science Council officials taking statements, inspecting the lander, and interviewing potential new staff alongside professor Williams. Lucky had been kept busy, but now he followed Bigman around like a puppy, always there to make sure he didn’t stand up too quickly, or overexerted himself, or breathed the wrong way twice. 

“It sure is pretty,” Bigman sighed, as they sat in the observation dome, enjoying a late lunch, “but even so I’m getting sick of the sight of that blue green ball.” 

Lucky laughed, and finished his salad.  _ Real  _ salad. He must have found a way to get it for them, as a treat. “As soon as the new doctor gives you the okay to travel, we’ll get you home, don’t you worry.”

_ Home _ . Bigman frowned at his food. They hadn’t really talked much after Doctor Bryson’s arrest. Lucky had been busy, and Bigman had been sleeping a lot, and in the few moments they’d had together in between, they had mostly kept to small talk and what was going on at the station. Bigman just didn’t know what to make of it all. How long had Lucky known Bigman’s secret? He was clearly all right with it, or he wouldn’t have kept up their friendship for so long, much less let Bigman stay in his home. But if he didn’t take issue, why hadn’t he said another word about it? Maybe he was embarrassed. Bigman speared a salad leaf, glaring at it. That made sense. Just because he didn’t have a problem with it, didn’t mean he enjoyed talking, or even thinking about it. 

“Something on your mind?” Lucky looked so worried, and Bigman immediately felt guilty. 

“Nah, just looking forward to getting out of this place.” 

Lucky seemed to relax again. “Come on, finish your food; I’ve got something to show you.”

  
  


* * *

It was the first time he was back in the engineering bay since his ill-fated trip with Jameson, and Bigman suppressed a shudder as he stepped inside. A number of Council engineers were gathered around the dias where the lander had stood before, working on a similar-looking craft. 

“Gee, Lucky.” He moved closer, trying to get a glimpse between them. “What’s going on? Are they making a new lander?”

“Yes, under Adernan’s supervision. This one will be unmanned, more or less, remotely controlled by the station. It’ll sink through the layers of liquid surface, sending data as it goes along.” 

Bigman’s eyes widened. “All the way to the bottom?” 

“That would be a long way to go. There is a silicate core, but it’s doubtful the lander will be able to get that far down and still manage to get a signal through to The Globe. But they're hoping it will make it past the diamond ocean.”

“Diamond ocean! You mean, there’s liquid diamonds down there?” 

“Towards the bottom, yes, due to the extreme pressure and temperature. Higher up, there might be rains of diamond, or diamond ice-bergs floating around.” He got a far-away look in his eyes. “What a sight it must be.”

Bigman tried to imagine it; crystal clear seas, glittering from within, the little lander sinking deeper and deeper into it. “If only Jørgensen could get to see it,” he sighed. 

“I suppose in a way, she will.” 

“What? Quit joking around, Lucky!” It wasn’t like him to make fun of things like that. 

Lucky put a hand on his shoulder and led them away from the engineers, lowering his voice. “Jørgensen stated in her security records that she wanted a burial in space. The Council looked into it, and it was unanimously decided to send her body down with the new lander. It’s being kept in cryo-storage here, until everything is set.”

“You mean…” Bigman felt lighter than he had a moment ago. Like the gravity was lower. 

“Yes. She’ll be the first woman on Uranus.”

  
  


* * *

They didn’t really have anything to pack, so there was little for Bigman to do except wait for Lucky to finish brushing his teeth, when they got back to their rooms that evening. One more night, and they were out of here. Bigman couldn’t wait. Still… he sat on the edge of the bed, which had been his this past week; a collapsible cot had been added for Lucky. Normally, Bigman would have protested at Lucky taking the less comfortable bed, but he hadn’t had much energy until just recently. He’d offer to take the cot tonight though, and Lucky would damn well accept it. 

“I’m taking the cot,” he said, the moment Lucky opened the door, “and I won’t hear a word against it.”

Lucky held up his hands. “All right; I see you’ve fully recovered.” He sat down next to Bigman, pulling off his socks. They hadn’t brought sleepwear with them, so Lucky had stripped down to his underwear, like he’d done every night. Bigman had slept in his clothes, never quite comfortable with Lucky seeing him in any sort of state of undress. 

“Good. It’ll be more comfortable for me than for you, anyway; I’m not gangly and oversized like you are.”

Lucky chuckled, but he wasn’t looking at Bigman. He worried at his lip. “There’s something I ought to say to you, before we leave. I should have done so already, but I’m… I haven’t known quite how to approach it.”

Bigman tensed. This was it. Whatever Lucky said, Bigman would take it. He owed Lucky everything. He’d been more than reasonable. A good friend. “Let’s hear it.” 

“About what I told Doctor Bryson.” He exhaled, still not looking in Bigman’s direction. “I never meant to pry into your personal affairs. I shouldn’t have looked at your medical records, but when you got injured for the first time on Earth, I had to set you up as my dependent, in order for my medical plan to cover you. I had to okay the transfer of your records from Mars, and they sent me a copy to verify. I didn’t mean to-”

“Lucky,” Bigman put a hand on his arm, “is that what’s been worrying you?”

“Of course! I shouldn’t have done that, and when I did, I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

Bigman just shook his head. “I don’t want to keep any secrets from you. I’m only sorry I never told you myself. I was worried how you’d take it, is all.”

“How I’d take it?” 

“You know. Not everyone is like Doctor Bryson, but there aren’t that many people who’d just shrug off someone being gender incongruent. That’s not usually what they call it, either.” He’d heard all the names, and he didn’t like to recall any of them. 

“You thought I’d  _ mind _ ?” 

“I thought you’d see me differently.”

Lucky put a hand over Bigman’s, and looked him in the eyes, finally. “You’re the finest man I know, John Bigman Jones. Nothing could ever change that.” His voice was thick. Bigman had never seen him like this. 

“Oh, Lucky…” He didn’t know what to say. 

“I’d be lost without you.” 

“Well, I’ll never leave your side, for as long as you want me. So there.” In the next moment Lucky’s arms were around him, crushing him to his chest. Bigman wheezed, his head spinning. 

“I won’t ask anything else of you. You don’t have to worry about that.” 

What was the big lug rambling about now? Bigman pulled back. “What do you mean?”

“You know.” And Lucky blushed. There was a sight Bigman thought he’d never see. “You never want to share a bed with me. And I understand; not all men are like that. So I want you to know, I won’t-” Bigman kissed him, pushing him back onto the bed, headache be damned. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


The last of the blue-green light faded behind them, as the  _ Shooting Starr  _ slowly accelerated away. Bigman was back in his familiar chair, keeping half an eye on Lucky, who was plotting the course for home. Funny how that word had a different taste in his mind, now. And speaking of things on his mind…

“Hey, Lucky? You think they’ll ever bring any of those diamonds up to the surface?”

“Technically, they  _ are  _ on the surface.” 

“Yeah, yeah. You know what I mean.”

“I suppose they might.” Lucky looked up, his fingers still working the controls. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, no reason.” That was good to know. In time, then, Bigman might get his hands on one of them. He didn’t know all that much about Earth engagement rings, but he’d heard that diamonds were the traditional choice.   



End file.
